You Can't Forget Past
by Avery Ambrose
Summary: Rix Taylors has had a tragic past but meeting the King of Brooklyn has flipped her world upside down. This the background story of Rix. She's a character in the Main Story, that's not posted yet. It should still make sense though... SPOT/OC
1. Sinister Smiles

**Sinister Smile**

On top of the Brooklyn Newsboys Lodging House I sat. I watched all the ant-sized people meander through the streets and alleyways of Brooklyn as I sat on the edge of the roof looking at the busy borough. I observed a mother and her daughter as they walked like royalty through the cobblestone streets. I felt my past begin to catch up with me as I saw the mother scold her daughter for staring sympathetically at a newsie boy trying to sell of his papes.

I softly snorted as I thought of my own mother. She had good intentions but was blinded by love, or at least what she thought was love.

**May of 1899**

_"Oh, honey, you'll love him! He's so polite and handsome. His eyes are that blue color. They kind of remind me of yours but yours are much more pale then his," my mother rambled like a mad woman about her boyfriend, Peter J. Thompson. Supposedly, Peter was a bank-teller at a well-known bank in the center of Manhattan and owned a two story house that was passed down in his family from generation to generation. From what I've been told by my mother, he is the best man in the world, next to my real father anyways. _

_To tell you the truth, I didn't even want to think about meeting this "Peter" man. I didn't even like his name. It seemed to cliché like John Doe. I just hated the way my mother made him sound like the best thing that walked the face of this planet. It broke my heart and confused me how she could seem to forget my father. The man who swept her off her feet from day one. The man who supported our small family and made sure that I was treated like a real daddy's girl._

_But daddy's not here, thus I can not be a daddy's girl. I now have to be the girl who heard her mother's nightly sobs for at least eleven months now. I had to grow up fast in order to keep my mother sane from the heart break of loosing a husband, a best-friend, and a lover. I was now fourteen meeting my mother's perfect boyfriend. _

_"That's great, mother," I responded in a dull tone. She was too caught up in perfect Peter to catch my dullness, though. I rolled my eyes as I went back to the newspaper that mother bought when she went to get some ingredients for our dinner tonight._

_After reading the paper for a few minutes I heard a knock at the door. "Oh my goodness! That must be Peter!" my mother cried from the kitchen before I saw her throwing her oven mitts to me and then fixing her hair in the small hall mirror. I gave a soft snort as she opened the door and I glared and wrinkled my nose at the man in the doorway. _

_He didn't seem that perfect to me but he wasn't that bad looking. His dark brown hair was groomed nicely and his night-blue eyes were only fixed on my mother for a few moments before they scanned the room and landed on me. I saw a creepy grin form on his thin lips that my mother misjudged as a friendly gesture._

_My mother gave him a welcome kiss on the cheek and then led him to me, who still sat on the sofa. "Peter, darling, this is my daughter, Marie. Marie this is Peter J. Thompson."_

_"Very nice to finally meet you, Marie. Your charming mother mentions you a lot and I hope her comments are true," Peter said with an almost genuine smile. _

_"Like wise," I murmured. I saw my mother's and Peter's smile's falter slightly before my mother led Peter away from me to the dining room. _

_I knew this guy was convincing enough to fool my mother, but I saw straight though him. He gave off this sinister and fake feeling that I didn't find that 'perfect'. Then again, he didn't seem that bad but that doesn't mean that I like him. My guard's up until Peter can prove himself._

_"Marie, time for dinner!" my mother called from the dinner table. I sighed and laid the paper on the table and walked to the dining room. It was awkward to see my mother swooning over Peter but neither of them seemed to notice the atmosphere. I sat down across from Peter with my mother to my left. Mother set my soup in front of me and then whispered something to Peter. _

_Peter cleared his throat before turning his attention to me. "So, Marie, how old are you?"_

_I looked at him with a cautious gaze and then responded, "Fourteen till September."_

_"So you'll be fifteen in a couple months then?" he asked._

_"I guess so…" I said not really knowing what he was getting at._

_"Do you go to school?"_

_"Not often," I said before taking a sip of my soup._

_"Not often?"_

_"Well, I do most of the work around here so there's really no time for school."_

_"Oh. Well, what do you do for fun?"_

_"Like hobbies?"_

_"Yes, if that's what you call them."_

_"Um…read, write, draw…stuff like that."_

_"What do you write about?"_

_"Is that really any of your concern?"_

_"Marie, he's simply curious," my mother spoke up to my somewhat rude tone._

_"More then simply curious if you ask me…" I mumbled._

_"What was that?" she snapped._

_"Nothing," I said. Peter looked somewhat amused by my response. _

_"Good. Now, answer Peter's question," she ordered._

_"Stories my father used to tell me," I mumbled._

_"Your mother mentioned that your father had quite the imagination. How did he pass away?"_

_"He died protecting us. He risked his own safety to get me and her out of the house before it burned to the ground. Would you do that for us?" I asked heatedly. Peter didn't need to know about my fathers death._

_"Of course I would," he said._

_"You barely know us…or at least me," I pointed out._

_"That doesn't matter, my pet."_

_"I'm not your pet."_

_"Marie, calm down," my mother interrupted again._

_"No. I will not calm down. He doesn't need to know such personal things. I'm going to my room and leave me alone!" I left in a huff. Maybe I overreacted but I didn't like this guy. He was creepy and was too personal._

_I got out of my dress, which I hated, and dressed in my pajamas. I lied in my bed for a good half hour, realizing that I'll tolerate Peter for the sake of my mother. She's all I got left and we've got to be there for each other._


	2. Moving In

**Moving In**

That's where I was wrong. I should have told her I didn't like him from the day I met him, but no. I had to be miserable to make sure she was okay. I shifted my position on the roof so I was hugging one of my knees and I rested my head on it. I sighed and remembered when mum and I first moved into his house.

_**June of 1898**_

_The house looked nice, I'll give him that. Flowers accompanied the shuttered on the white house like a cherry on a sundae. It looked too perfect. Actually, Peter was too perfect, so I guess they compliment each other nicely. There wasn't any grass or even a lawn but the house looked okay with out it. _

_I held on to my books and notebooks like it was the last time I'd ever see them. I held my bag on my right shoulder and carried my stuffed bat in my left hand. Mom hated my bat, who I named Charles, but my father got him for me so I would never let her throw him out, even if he was raggedy and dirty._

_I walked into the house. It was also nice, not great like our old house, but nice. Natural tones decorated the interior and a grand staircase that led somewhere to hopefully my room._

_"Marie, honey, your room's upstairs. Take a left, first door on your right." My mother told me. I nodded and led myself up to my new room. _

_It was a smaller room. I liked it though. The walls where tan with a cream bed spread and a white dresser, complete with a mirror. I noticed a window and looked out of it. I had a great view of Manhattan and the Brooklyn bridge. _

_Brooklyn was always a place where I wanted to go. Just the rumors of it being 'tough' made me even more eager to see it. I wanted to meet this Spot Conlon kid too. He was maybe a year or two old then myself and if the rumors were true, I'd be intimidated by him. I doubt it though, I wasn't very nervous around many people anymore. Not since…well…my father's death._

_"Enjoying the view?" I heard from behind me. I turned to see Peter giving me that eerie grin again._

_"I guess," I answered. He nodded and then began to approach me as I turned my back to him, hoping he'd leave me alone._

_"Why don't you like me, Marie?" he boldly asked, right behind me. He was close, almost touching my back._

_"You're not my father," I said simply. He didn't seem to get my hints and continued to make this awkward._

_"Ah, well, I can't replace your father, but maybe I could be something else to you?"_

_"Like what?"_

_"Just think about it, okay?" I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion before I turned to him. Before completing the turn, I was pushed against the wall with Peter's body crushed against me. I quickly turned my head before I was paralyzed as I felt this breathe on my right ear. "Okay?"_

_"Yeah…yeah, whatever," I whispered. I saw him glance at me out of the corner of my eye and I also noted the slight smirk on his lips._

_"Good," he stated before turning and leaving my room like nothing happened. I let out a shaky breath. Nothing good could come from that. Nothing…_


	3. Never Forget

**Never Forgot**

I was completely right. Nothing was okay anymore. Peter was even more awkward to be around. At that time, I could only think about my mother's happiness, not my safety or feelings. My feelings were proved right when I was alone one day sewing together a pair of pants that I had been working on for a couple days.

_**June of 1899**_

_I had one more stitch to go before my pants were finished. My shirts were already finished. I was so sick of my dresses. They were only troublesome and in the way. I laid my pants next to my two shirts in my drawer before flopping on my bed._

_Nothing more had ever happened after Peter told me to think about 'it'. What was 'it', anyways? He was such a creep but mother always failed to see it. _

_I was still in my pajamas, which was a shorter and lighter dress in my opinion. Everything was quiet before I heard the door slam shut. I was immediately alarmed because I was home alone. Peter was at the bank and mother was being a maid at someone's house for half of the day._

_I sat up in bed and heard the footsteps of the person come up the stairs to my bedroom. The doorknob turned slowly before the door revealed Peter. I furrowed my eyebrows and stood up._

_"Why aren't you at the bank?" I asked cautiously. He advanced on me but I still stood in the same place._

_"I took the day off to have some fun," he responded. Once again he had that creepy grin on his face but now he had a malicious glint in his eyes._

_"What do you mean fun?" I asked as I backed up. He was close now. Too close for comfort. It finally clicked in my head what he meant by 'fun'. "Back off, Peter."_

_"Back off? Oh, my pet, this is my house. I'll do what I please," he said as he pushed me against the wall again. He grabbed my hands and held them beside my head. I closed my eyes with hope that none of this was real. "Are you afraid?"_

_"Get off me, jackass," I hissed. He chuckled at me._

_"Why would I do that?" he asked. I was at a lost for words. Paralyzed, if you will. "Just relax and I won't hurt you…much," he mumbled as he kissed the base of my neck._

_"Stop it," I said as strongly as I could, which was hard being in the position I was in._

_"Shh…just give in. Just go with the flow," he urged. I felt the tears coming. My throat was tight with fear. I didn't want this now. I didn't want him._

_"No, please…" I pleaded as he unbuttoned the front of my dress-like pajamas. He pretended not to hear me. "Please, Peter, don't do this. Please."_

_"Shh," he murmured as he kissed up my neck to my jaw. I tried to push against him but I was too afraid. I was weak with fear and couldn't defend myself. By now, my pajamas were opened and my bra was exposed to him. He began grabbing me and rubbing against me._

_Luckily, I heard the front door, slam shut again. Peter froze and then glazed over his shoulder at the door. "Marie, dear, are you here?" my mother shouted from the foyer._

_"Mom, I'm here! Help-" I was cut off by Peter's hand. My sobs and yells were muffled by it. I heard my mother hustle up the stairs and then burst into my room._

_"Hello, dearest," Peter welcomed evilly. My mother's gaze was horrified. Wouldn't you be if you saw your daughter in this situation?_

_"Marie! Peter, why?" she cried as she began to run towards us. Peter was too quick though. He pulled a gun and shot. My eyes grew wide as I watched her fall backwards in slow motion. I screamed as my tears flowed freely now._

_"Mum! No! Mother! You killed her!" I shouted in his face._

_"She was in my way. Now just be a good girl and do what I tell you," he said in a harsh demanding tone. I silently whimpered as he began to touch me again. "How about we move to a better place, huh?" _

_"How about we not do this at all? Please, don't do this. Please," I whispered. He ignored me again as he threw me onto my bed. "Peter, please! No! Don't make me! Please!"_

_"Shut up!" he slapped me across the face. "I've waited long enough and now I have all the time in the world."_

_"Please…Please," I sobbed as he hiked up my dress. "Don't…please." He unbuttoned his own pants…then everything else was a blur to me. I remember being in pain for a few hours and my screams were probably heard over in Europe, but he just didn't stop. I'll never forget that day. Never…_


	4. Butterflies

**Butterflies**

I wiped my nose and dabbed my eyes with my shirt. I didn't cry that often, but when I did, I hated it but savored the feeling. I let out a shaky breath and then roof door open. I glanced over my shoulder to see my boyfriend, _the_ Spot Conlon. The kid I always wanted to meet. Now I was _his_ girl. I _love_ it when things work out like that.

"Rix?" he asked, genuinely concerned as he came up from behind me. Rix was my nickname. I used it so the police couldn't find me if they needed to. I didn't want to get hung up in all that legal stuff. He'd get time for killing my mother, that would be enough for my satisfaction. "What are ya doin' up heah?"

"Jus' thinkin'," I also picked up the street accent when I was on the streets. I ditched my dresses for my pants and shirts. I had changed a lot from the daddy's little girl I was supposed to be.

"'Bout what?" Spot asked as he sat next to me. He looked over the edge of the roof and raised his eyebrows as he took in a sharp intake. He held me around my waist and pulled me closer . I couldn't help but smile at this gesture.

"Me mum an' dat bastard," I snarled before I snorted. I shivered as I leaned on Spot. Spot's gasp tightened when he sighed. He found out what had happened to me because he had cornered me before we confessed out feelings for each other.

"Why don't ya think a' some'tin' moah happy?" he suggested. I looked up at him.

"Like what?"

"Like…when I asked ya ta be me goil," he gave a cocky smirk and I let out a small laugh. I think he was still smug about that. He thought it was manly but I thought it was hilarious the way he thought he was going weak and almost insane because he had liked me. I guess I was the same way, but wasn't blaming both of us.

I rested my head against his chest as I remembered that wonderful moment of my life.

_**July of 1899**_

_What the hell was wrong with me? I should be trying to avoid Brooklyn; now I found myself selling near Brooklyn. Again. And worse, I found myself looking for Spot. Now I knew something was wrong with me._

_I sold my papes fairly quickly. By he time they were gone, my stomach was rumbling and there had been no sign of Spot. My heart lowered as I looked towards Brooklyn one more time. Then I kicked myself in the ass for doing that._

_What did I need him for? I don't need him. I don't even want to see him. But, deep inside, I knew I was lying to myself. Deep inside, I knew I was falling for him and it scared the shit out of me._

_"Heya, Roxy," said a voice from behind me. It was Spot!_

_I stiffened even as my spirits rose. "It's Rix!" I said sharply, trying not to let my happiness of seeing him show. I turned to look at him, carefully keeping my face blank._

_"So, ya like sellin' nea Brooklyn?" he asked, somewhat sarcastically. He shook his head mockingly. "Tsk, Tsk. Ya should know betta den dat, Rixy. Brooklyn's a tough place."_

_"Don't worry. I'll be ca'eful," I said. Turning away, I muttered, "what do you ca'e, anyways?" _

_"What makes ya t'ink I don't ca'e?"_

_Shit. Heard me. "Oh, jus' da fact dat you don't ca'e 'bout anyone but yoahself," I answered nonchalantly._

_"Is dat so?" he asked, narrowing his eyes._

_"Yep."_

_"So, when I helped save dat Gem goil, I was only t'inkin' 'bout meself? An' when I saved ya, I was jus' t'inkin' 'bout meself?" His voice was oddly cool._

_I looked him straight in the eye. "Yep. Ya jus' wanted ta make yoahself look good."_

_Grabbing my arm roughly, he spun me around to face him. Gripping me tight, I looked at him and said coldly, "Yoah hoitin' me arm, Spot."_

_Before I knew what was happening, he had pushed me into an alley and pinned me to the wall._

_Slowly, his grip softened as I stared him defiantly at him, but he didn't let me go. "You'se are hard ta figua out, Rix," he told me, his voice husky._

_What seemed like a thousand butterflies erupted in my stomach as he kissed me. To my horror, I kissed back. _

_He broke away suddenly. Turning away sharply, he beat his fist on the opposite wall. I didn't know what to do, so I stood there, watching him cuss both me and himself out._

_"Dammit, Rix! Why do ya hafta make me feel like dis? Why do I feel like dis? Dammit! I'se weak dat's why! Spot Conlon's goin' soft!" he ranted like that for a few minutes before turning back to me. "Dammit, Rix," he repeated in a softer voice. "What are ya doin' ta me?"_

_I just stared at him, too torn between emotions to know what to do. One part of me wanted to reach out to him; give in to the part of me that to hold him. Another part told me to get angry and snap at him; get both of us out of this situation._

_I didn't know which part to give in to so I stood there. "Dammit, Rix, say somet'in'!"_

_Very slowly, I admitted, "Ya gave me buttaflies."_

_Spot's eyebrows raised. "Dat's it?"_

_I shrugged. "Da only otha t'ing ta say is I'm 'avin' da same fight wit' my feelin's dat you'se are."_

_"What?"_

_"I like you, Spot, and dat scares da shit outa me." There, I admitted it._

_To my surprise, Spot's features softened. He stepped forward and kissed me lightly on the cheek._

_"Ya don't eva hafta be scared a' me," he said softly._

_"I won't be."_

_"Good." He took a deep breath. "Rix, would ya be my goil?"_

_The butterflies erupted again. Grinning, I asked, "Will I be able ta call myself 'Queen of Brooklyn'?"_

_He laughed at me, "Whateva ya want, Rixy."_

_"Good. Den I say 'yes'."_

_With a boyish whoop, Spot kissed me again._


	5. The Brooklyn Boys

**The Brooklyn Boys**

"Fond memory, isn't?" Spot whispered in my right ear, causing a shiver to make it's way down my spine.

"I guess it is," I teased. "Do ya rememba when ya told me ya didn't want me in Brooklyn when we were first togetha? I hated it when ya left me…"

"Ya t'ink I liked leavin' ya theah? I couldn't do anyt'in' wit'out t'inkin' 'bout ya," Spot confessed.

"Dat's a good t'ing. Means ya missed me 'bout as much as I missed _you_," I admitted. He tore his gaze from the sunset and looked at me. His lips formed a grin and he let out a small chuckle while he shook his head slightly before looking out to the sun again.

"What's so funny, Conlon?" I mocked.

"I jus' realized how childish you'se are," he said. I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion prior to looking up at him again considering he was about four inches taller then me.

"I'm childish? At least I don't carry a slingshot in me pants an' git all huffy when me boyfriend gits attention from some goily," I taunted, remembering when I first came to Brooklyn.

_**August of 1899**_

_"Spot, what if dey don't like me or dey don't want a goil dere?" I asked as we walked to the Brooklyn Lodging House. His arm was around my shoulders in an almost protective manner and my arms were wrapped around his stomach and back. I felt to clingy but I didn't want to let go of him now. _

_"What dey t'ink doesn't matta. Yoah staying heah wit me an' if dey do 'ave a problem, dey can take it up wit me. Ya don't 'ave ta worry 'bout it, Rixy. Jus leave it ta me," Spot assured me. I sighed heavily and rested my head on his chest as we turned the corner to the Lodging House._

_It wasn't anything special, but you could tell a bunch of teenaged guys lived there. It wasn't very appealing to the eyes but if Spot called it home, I would too. _

_"Home, bitta-sweet, home," Spot mumbled. I chewed on the inside of my cheek out of nervousness and replaced my bangs behind my ears. "Okay, just relax, Rixy. Don't be intimidated by 'em 'cause dey should know betta den ta mess wit me, 'kay?"_

_I didn't really like it when Spot acted like he was the toughest guy around, but welcomed it this time. "Yeah. Let's git dis ova wit." He readjusted my bag on his shoulder and pushed his arm against my head, so he could kiss my forehead and murmur that everything will be fine once again._

_He began to walk, kind of dragging me with him because I really didn't want to meet these guys. Spot says they're not that bad but he knows them personally and intimidates most of them so of course they're nice to him. I, on the other hand, don't have that much confidence and still a little leery of any guy because of Peter. The asshole…_

_Spot opened the door and urged me forward as he shut the door behind us. I looked around like a little kid would and noticed three guys playing cards and another napping on the tattered sofa. They were big, more muscular then fat though. A little on the gruff-looking side and they had the typical 'Brooklyn attitude' which was 'you look at me wrong, I snap your neck". In one word, they were intimidating. But I can't see then like that, because I'm Spot's girl. Girl with an attitude. Girl that takes no shit from no one. Inside my head, I'm laughing my head off. I'm really nothing like that and Spot knows it just like I know that he's not really anything like his reputation says he is, but that's what it all comes down to. Reputations._

_"Heya fellas. Dis is me goil, Rix." I nodded my head at them as an awkward hello. _

_"Finally..." one muttered. I raised my eyebrows at the one who looked like he was around my age, maybe around Spots age. See, Spot is about a year and a half older then me. Anyways, the kid was dressed in a blue shirt and a tattered vest. He had sandy blonde hair and caramel eyes. _

_"What was dat, Trigga?" Spot asked nonchalantly. Trigger looked up at Spot and looked innocently at him._

_"Jus' said it was 'bout time. She's all ya eva talk 'bout," Trigger explained. I grinned at Spot and then looked at Trigger. _

_"T'anks foa informin' me," I said sincerely. He looked at me and smiled warmly._

_"Anytime," he said. I noticed Spot looking at Trigger like he was deciding if that word was a good thing or a bad thing to say. He looked at me as if to dismiss the thought._

_"Kay, Rixy. Dis is Trigga," he smiled again. "Buck," Buck looked to be around ten years old and had a dark brown hair and chocolate eyes. He nodded at me. "Red," Red had red hair and was probably around twelve or thirteen. "And da bed-head is Rev." Rev was a true bed-head with shaggy, light brown hair and he was sprawled all over the sofa._

_"Huh. So are there others?" I asked Spot. He wrapped his arm around my waist and became the 'King of Brooklyn Spot'. I didn't mind. I understood that he had to maintain his superior status._

_"Not right now. Dey're usually at Addie's or out sellin' papes," he explained to me while leading me upstairs. I glanced back at the guys and caught Trigger staring at me. He didn't bother to look away either. I waved awkwardly to them and raced Spot up the stairs._

_"Kay, now. I 'ave me own room an' you'se are gonna be in dere wit me. I don't know if I can trust dese guys 'round ya yet," Spot said as he nervously looked around the room as if I cared about the way __his__ our room looked at the moment. He rubbed the back of his neck and was almost about to grab a hat that was on the floor but I jumped on his back before he could get it. Luckily, he caught us both from falling to the floor._

_"Spot, I don't care if dis place is doity so jus stop cleanin'. Jus relax," I mocked him as he carried me over to the bed and sat me down before kneeling on the floor on his knees and putting his hands on my knees._

_"Rix…Rixy, I'm really glad yoah heah." He said sheepishly. I gave him a small smile before he leaned down to kiss my nose._

_"Me too."_


End file.
